He Loved Once
by Angelas
Summary: A giddy 10-year-old Jiraiya comes across a very lonely 8-year-old Orochimaru at the local park's swings. JiraOro explicit SHOTA


**I've been _dying_ to write something about these two. I love this pair. It's so beautiful. It reminds me an awful lot of Sasuke's and Naruto's relationship.. Which just adds further meaning. (x**

**I disclaim. If Naruto were mine, Jirayia would have been saved by Orochimaru. -.- le sigh~**

**Onwards!**

**oOo**

The summer's sun was setting, and the children of Konoha had all gone home.

All except for the pale boy with the midnight hair and yellow eyes.

His feet dragged along the sand that lied beneath the swing he'd been sitting on, staring as the other children had gone off hand in hand with their parents. None would speak to him. None would even dare come near. His eyes, he knew, and the deathly white tint of his skin always drove them away.

Orochimaru had always wondered what it would have been like to have held his mother's hand. To have had his father greet him with toys, or to have had a friend to build castles with in the sand. Loneliness was all he knew, and loneliness made him the way he was. He decided that he'd try no more from that day on towards his fruitless pursuit of companionship.

Like the snakes that he adored, he was alone. Like the snakes, he was feared and abhorred.

Golden eyes scanned the horizon, watching blankly as the figures of everyone that had previously been playing in the park disappeared. That day, he had only tried once to play with someone. As anticipated, however, the girl he'd approached shrieked and ran away from him. He heard her tell her friend how 'creepy' he was, and how 'scary' his eyes were. Saddened, he returned to his swing, watching solemnly how the others played until the sun began to go away.

He had no one to go home to. He had no reason to smile.

Just before deciding to leave the darkening place, he watched almost disbelievingly as someone began to approach him from just beyond the hill that lead to the park.

White hair, he could make out, made its presence boldly known as it contrasted in the purplish evening. Snake eyes traced the figure carefully, watching as the silhouette of a boy made itself more and more apparent. He wondered if the boy would only approach him to remind him of how frightening everyone claimed he was, or how abnormal the color of his skin appeared to be. For a moment, the pale child narrowed his eyes, daring the approaching boy to come any closer the moment he set foot on the playground's sand.

"Hi!" the stranger greeted, taking a seat on the swing next to Orochimaru, "What's your name?"

Yellow eyes glared at the white-haired boy, looking, _testing_, for any threat that might be hidden behind the friendliness of the other. The effects of his glower, however, were minimal, and the other boy chuckled quietly.

"You're not scary, you know," the stranger began, giving a genuine smile in response to the younger boy's glare, "Sarutobi-sensei talks about you a lot, and he says you're really nice. We'll be teammates soon!"

Surprised by the mere fact that the other boy hadn't sprinted away, or called him something demeaning, Orochimaru slowly began to let go of his previous scowl, only to look away quite nervously. He didn't know how to respond to this type of situation. No one had ever sat so near him before. Let alone, ask him his name.

"Well, I'm Jiraiya," the other announced, a sense of cheer sweetening his words, "and I really like toads! What do you like?"

Yellow eyes widened slightly, and the pale boy found himself apprehensively playing with his fingers underneath the moonlight. It took him a second to fully register what was going on, but he decided that this would finally be his chance to attain the companionship so many others around him had when he hadn't. Still skeptical, Orochimaru turned, facing the smiling boy that now swung softly on the swing, awaiting a reply.

"I'm Orochimaru," he said quietly, his voice piercing the thin veil of silence that lied dormant between the two boys, "I like snakes.."

Jiraiya giggled, his white hair bouncing lightly in response. Yellow eyes watched quietly, shocked that he had caused another person a _positive_ emotion. A small glint of excitement made its presence known on Orochimaru's fuchsia lips, taking the shape of a faint smile.

"Snakes are cool! But not as cool as Master Gamabunta!" the other said loudly, now swinging wildly on the opposite swing, "I'm going to summon him one day! And we'll be fighting together!"

The pale boy maintained the smile on his lips, watching intently as the other's excitement showcased mercilessly unto that lonely, starless night. He wondered deeply if one day he could shout like that. He wondered if maybe one day he'd be as happy as the other.

"I'm going to summon Manda someday," a small voice began, causing the white-haired boy to slow down in his swinging, "And command him at my whim."

A grin flared on Jiraiya's face, the two marks beneath his eyes complimenting his natural complexion of mischief. Golden eyes didn't fail to notice this, and the pale boy smiled in return, grateful that the other hadn't laughed at him.

"Sarutobi-sensei says you could do that and more someday," the young boy began, brown eyes looking right into honey-colored ones, "We'll make a great trio! Flat-chest will also be in our team."

"Tsunade?"

"Yeah! She wants to summon stupid slugs, though. I think it's really lame."

Orochimaru looked away, still surprised that the other was still speaking to him. He wanted to say something else, anything, to keep the other boy from leaving.

"What do you like to do?" came the sudden question, earning an excited chuckle from the older boy.

"I'm going to be a published author someday! And people from all over the world are going to read what I write!"

The pale boy turned once more to face the other, a gleam of innocence sparking into his tyrannous, serpentine eyes, "What will you write?"

"About girls, of course! Girlfriends, kissing, hugging, all of that!"

A dark eyebrow rose slightly at the response, wondering what most of those words even meant, "Girlfriend..?"

"Yeah! Do you have one?"

Orochimaru looked deeply into the brown eyes of the other, trying to figure out what the other boy was talking about. He wanted to know, he really did. But it felt strange having been asking so many questions. He was known as a genius that hadn't the need for such things, much less needing the enlightenment of a boy not much older than himself.

"What's a 'girlfriend'..?"

His genuine question received a loud laugh in response, causing the other boy to fall unto the sand in uncontrollable giggles. Yellow eyes stared, watching as the boy groveling on the ground convulsed violently. For a moment, Orochimaru wondered if the other had been hurt, or had fallen from a stroke of some kind..

"You're funny, 'Rochi!" Jirayia finally managed to say, sitting up from his previous laughing fit, "How could you not know what a girlfriend is?"

"I don't know," came the truthful reply.

The fair-haired 10 year-old brought a hand underneath his chin, thinking on how he could explain the term 'girlfriend' to the other boy. He knew what it was, he was sure, but he was also aware that he was still in need of further 'research' to fully be able to pin down the meaning of it correctly. He gave it his best shot, nonetheless.

"Well, a girlfriend is someone you hold hands with and talk to all the time," the boy began, furrowing his silver brows in deep concentration as he went on, "And you kiss them, hug them, and you spend a lot of time with them."

Satisfied with his definition, he looked towards the pale boy that sat motionlessly on the swing above him, a light shade of pink threatening at the once colorless skin.

"I don't think I have one of those, then," Orochimaru finally replied, trying his best to contain the sudden rush of blood seeping towards his face, "Do you..?"

"Nope! But I sure do want one!" Jiraiya announced, standing from the sand and facing the sitting boy directly, "I'm going to ask Flat-Chest to be my girlfriend soon!"

Yellow eyes lowered, watching the unmoving ground beneath his hovering feet. Orochimaru began to wonder if he, too, wanted one of these 'girlfriends'. Not Tsunade, though, but someone he felt more comfortable around. Someone he'd want to be able to spend a lot of time with like Jirayia had said..

"It's getting late, 'Rochi," the older of the two announced, eyeing the area around them that now lied dimly lit by the moonlight above, "Do you want to come over to my house? I could show you all the books I've made so far!"

Golden eyes met brown again, and the pale boy stared for a moment. No one had ever invited him to their house before, much less imply that they wanted to spend time with him. Fuchsia lips parted, astounded by the mere offer that had escaped the other boy's mouth. Orochimaru then realized he would have liked nothing more than to be near his new companion that night. Maybe not just that night, but all of the other nights, too.

The fluttering in his stomach told him so. The pink waves that encased his face like the petals to a rosebud assured him of such.

Orochimaru wanted to be near Jiraiya. He wanted to spend 'a lot of time' with him.

The pale boy then stood, facing the other directly. Several inches separated their heights, and for a moment, Orochimaru felt safe. The incurable loneliness from before began to disperse ever so slowly, and he was then fully aware that the person causing all of these strange feelings within him was none other than Jirayia himself. The one who claimed to be a lover of toads, the one who aimed to become a famous writer someday. The one who would one day summon the great Gamabunta.

Snake eyes stared deeply into the awaiting gaze of the other. The butterflies within him soared mercilessly, begging, _pleading_, to accept the older boy's offer. To kill the loneliness. To rip the wings of the bugs that transcended in his belly; to be near the person that had caused the pink color that now displayed on his once colorless features.

Orochimaru then decided that he wanted to touch the cinnamon-colored cheek of the other.

"Okay," he quietly said, a small, microscopic smile decorating his pallid lips.

Excited that Orochimaru had accepted, Jiraiya held him by the hand, not noticing the blatant shade of red now showcasing shamelessly on the pale boy's face in response to the sudden contact.

No one had ever touched him before. No one had ever held his hand. No one ever would after that day. Orochimaru wouldn't allow it. Only Jiraiya would have had the pleasure of ever holding that white, immaculate hand. Only Jiraiya caused the butterflies in his stomach. Only Jiraiya allowed him to feel 'human'. At least then. At least when they were both young and pure.

Long, midnight hair followed through their sprint across the park and through the village. Silver, messy tresses complimented the strands of midnight, causing a river of black and white to foreshadow the two boys with entwined fingers. Snake eyes watched quietly as the older boy rushed them through the buildings, giggles emitting from the other's smiling face.

Orochimaru didn't know such sunlight existed. He didn't know beauty was at all possible until That Day.

That unforgettable day in which Jiraiya's cream-colored skin contrasted almost gracefully against that starless night.

**oOo **

Jiraiya's home was small; coated in both drawings of toads and posters of hardly-clothed women.

Golden eyes studied curiously at the images, taking in how the female figure was a completely foreign matter to him. He hardly noticed, (or cared, now that he thought about it), the way girls chests differentiated from his own. Without really realizing it, a pale hand traced the figure of one of the women on the wall, wondering deeply how such large masses of flesh managed to emerge from the tabled chest of a young girl.

"She's pretty hot, eh?" a small nudge made Orochimaru turn around in surprise, dispelled from his previous trance, "I like her the best. She's the inspiration to my next coming novel!"

Yellow eyes stared once again into cinnamon ones, trying to figure out why the other boy had such a lingering effect on his usually unfazed demeanor. Orochimaru found himself shamelessly staring, merely standing in place before the taller boy. He hardly noticed when Jiraiya began to fidget underneath his intimidating, serpentine gaze.

"Uh.. Well, I mean, do you wanna hang out in my room? I could show you my toy collection!"

Taken by the offer, the pale boy followed closely behind, watching quietly at the way the white hair of the other flowed flawlessly through the air. He then found himself in a small room, trashed with several crumpled balls of paper, toy frogs, magazines, and broken kunais.

"Take a look at this," Jiraiya began, his voice a tad suggestive as he flipped through the pages of a strange magazine he'd gotten from the floor, "It took AGES stealing this from the old man!"

The magazine now rested on pale hands, golden eyes studying the images presented to them. A light shade of pink rushed towards Orochimaru's cheeks again, and he almost threw the naughty magazine back on the floor. The image staring back at him, however, was too tantalizing to rid of just yet.

"Do you like it?" the older boy questioned, closing in on a very warm Orochimaru to share the experience, "It's one of my favorite positions!"

Perplexed, but knowing fully well what the two people in the magazine were doing, the pale boy brought the magazine closer to his face, eager to have Jirayia closer to him. He could feel the warm breath of the other on his ear from beneath his waist-long hair, causing a very foreign flare of blood to snake between his legs.

"What is it called?" Orochimaru asked, his voice a whisper that caused a few strands of white hair to move ever so slightly at the vibration.

"Missionary," the older boy replied, completely entranced by the image on the magazine, "It's when the girlfriend's on her back facing her boyfriend."

Wanting more of the other boy's intoxicating presence, Orochimaru turned the page, making sure with the corner of his eye that the other boy was still enticed by what he was holding. An odd photograph greeted both boys. The girlfriend seemed to have been on her hands and knees while the boyfriend placed something inside her bottom. Shocked, yellow eyes stared at the conjunction, now completely enlightened on something he never knew plausible.

Was it really true that the white-haired boy standing so close to him could, in fact, be even closer to him?

_Inside_, even?

Taking in the new information, Orochimaru flipped the page yet again, making sure that Jiraiya was still entranced by the magazine while he thought further into his upcoming plan.

Orochimaru already knew that the boy standing next to him made him feel different. Made him feel.._ excited_. The heat flooding from in between his legs was a further indication of so. The other boy's breath began to grow heavier, more concentrated, causing the youngest boy's breath to hitch, as well. The cause of it not being the magazine, but Jiraiya, himself.

A pale hand flipped again to the next page, eager for more of the other's breath to blend against his own. This time, Orochimaru didn't bother to study the image, and was instead inflicted with some sort of sudden hardening between his thighs the moment the older boy's breath morphed into light pants.

He could feel the overwhelming amount of warmth emitting from the boy standing next to him, and he knew then that he needed more of it. He wanted to be closer to Jiraiya, like in the magazine. He wanted to be the cause of Jiraiya's strange breathing, to ease the thick ache now apparent through his pants.

"I-I'll be right back, 'Rochi," the tanned boy finally managed to say, his voice shaky from tension, "I'll bring us something to drink!"

Within the length of a mere second, Orochimaru was robbed of the other boy's warmth. He now stood in the middle of the room, alone, dirty magazine in hand, and a very foreign feeling between his legs. He thought of the magazine as guidance to what he wanted, and small, pale hands immediately began to undress his heated figure. Not long after, a very naked 8 year-old Orochimaru stood in the middle of the room.

Curious and a little confused, yellow eyes studied the muscle that now jutted shamelessly from his body. He didn't recall having that part of his body doing that before, but he knew fully well that the other boy was the main and only cause of it. Puzzled, a lithe, colorless hand slowly began to encase the aching flesh, fingers wrapping around the pinkish shaft. A surge of what felt like_ pleasure_ ran through Orochimaru's spine and right down to his belly. A small gasp escaped him, causing the small muscle in his hand to twitch ever so slightly.

Footsteps neared, and the pale hand immediately left its previous location the moment Jiraiya stepped inside the room; two cups of lemonade in either hand.

"I brought some lemona-"

The shocking sight of a completely unclothed boy greeted him, and he allowed the two glasses of flavored water to shatter on the wooden floor. Flawless, alabaster skin contrasted heavily in the dimmed room, causing brown eyes to take in the sight rather sinfully.

"W-what are you d-doing..?" he questioned, his voice completely different from his previous one that overflowed with confidence and zeal, "Y-your.. n-naked.."

Shy and fearful that Jiraiya didn't like his body, Orochimaru turned away, a flush of pink treading on his watertight complexion. He only did what the magazine proved to have driven Jirayia's breath to hitch the way it had.

Was his body not as beautiful as the ones in the magazine..? Fear began to snake its way into the naked boy, dreading the rejection that surely was to come.

"The magazine.." he shyly began, pointing at the graphic image that lied very much visible on the ground, "If I took off my clothes like her, would you hold me the same way he holds her?"

Mournful, golden eyes nervously met with stunned, cinnamon ones, hoping dearly that the other would accept his pining offer. He just wanted Jiraiya close. He wanted the other boy to hold him, to make his face twist into the satisfaction that was clearly depicted on the woman's in the picture.

"I-I.." the silver-haired boy began to back up, almost tripping on a few kunais that laid scattered all over the floor, "I'm g-gonna just-"

"Please. Don't leave."

Absolutely terrified that the source of his previous elation and felicity would leave him in that room all alone in the unbearable loneliness that he knew all too well, Orochimaru frantically grabbed hold of Jiraiya's sleeve; a pleading, grieving look in his tyrannous, serpentine eyes.

He wouldn't let go. He wouldn't let go of the boy who had showed him what companionship was like. On that night, under the moon so bright, a mischievous smile that had tied their lives forever in that park.

Eager to keep the older boy in the room with him, Orochimaru pressed his body against the stiffness of the other's; begging with those golden, piercing eyes for some sort of response.

"My hair.. My hair is long like the woman there," a small finger pointed again at the magazine on the floor, causing the older boy's perplexed eyes to look down on the image, "so it's okay, right..?"

Paralyzed and emptied on any other attempts to keep the boy there with him, Orochimaru wrapped his arms harshly around Jirayia's waist, absolutely devoted in not letting him go. Yellow eyes began to water as the other boy still showed no response, merely stiffening even more underneath his grasp.

Almost as if all the prayers he'd sworn he'd never pray had been answered, a pair of firm arms began to make their way against Orochimaru's naked figure. The sudden response and contact almost drove the pale boy to the edge, the previous ache between his legs making its presence known once again. He held him back. Jiraiya had chosen to hold him back.

"You're right.." the older boy began, "Your hair's even longer than Flat-Chest's!"

Relieved at the favoring comment, Orochimaru looked up towards the smiling boy that fit so comfortably in his embrace. Cinnamon eyes glowed with innocence and simplicity, meeting with the lonely, malevolent ones of the other.

"Hold me," the smaller boy whispered, his snake eyes pleading, "Like they do in the magazine."

Jiraiya studied the boy below him, thinking deeply on the situation in his hands.

Orochimaru was a beautiful creature. Hair as dark as midnight, eyes as yellow as sunlight, skin that resembled an avalanche of pearl, and hair an astonishing length he'd never encountered in his lifetime. Seeing as the small boy surpassed all previous beauty he'd encountered, Jiraiya was immediately snared into the white serpent's artifice.

Before he could fully register what was taking place, Jiraiya suddenly felt his legs meet with the cold air in the room. He looked down, noticing that the pale boy had already worked down his pants. An obvious, jutting muscle was revealed into the dimness of the room, and a beautiful, refined face hovered centimeters over it.

A gasp escaped the older boy's lips as he watched the younger boy begin to lick at his now throbbing ache. A lithe, pink tongue toyed with the flaring skin, soaking small trails down the solid shaft. Narrowed, brown eyes watched with ecstasy at the foreign feeling he'd been dying to experience for the sake of his 'research' for weeks now.

Yellow, piercing eyes stared up at him as the wetness of the younger boy's tongue grazed underneath his now weeping dick. Gasps and mewls of unpremeditated pleasure escaped Jiraiya's lips, not exactly knowing how to react at such a devious situation at such a young, innocent age.

Orochimaru's drive to have the older boy closer to him, however, overwhelmed his virginal fears. He wanted to cease all feelings of loneliness. He wanted Jiraiya, he wanted Jiraiya to want him, too. Pale, fuchsia lips began to nervously wrap around the leaking muscle, earning a very loud moan from the elder boy. Excited and driven by the beautiful response, Orochimaru continued his action, deepening the entirety of the other's dick deep into his throat.

He could pull snakes out from deep his esophagus, he could swallow swords until it hit the bottom surface of his stomach, Jiraiya's delicious flesh was nothing compared to such things. Using his ability to swallow nearly anything without reaction or recoil, the small boy began to fuck his throat relentlessly against the trembling ache of the other. The delectable responses that came afterwards drove Orochimaru to increase his movements, causing the entire room to resonate in the shameful sound of wet, penetrated flesh.

Saliva dribbled from the corners of his mouth, causing the small packages that rested underneath the older boy's swallowed cock to drip. Yellow eyes were intent on the face above that was now twisted and contorted in indescribable pleasure, just like in the magazine. Orochimaru wanted Jiraiya to _need_ him, he wanted to make Jiraiya _want_ him there with him.

Squelching noises tore at the otherwise silent room, long howls of heated pleasure escaping the throat of the eldest. The way Orochimaru's tongue elongated to wriggle underneath the shaft was driving Jiraiya crazy. The heat of his mouth, the slippery, saturated texture of his throat, the way those golden eyes would look up towards him with a devoted pledge to pleasure him.. It was all so much, and he began to feel the familiar coil inside his stomach begin to take place.

The explosion, however, was stopped the moment the moist cave retreated from his pulsating erection. Half-lidded, delirious, brown eyes met with yellow ones that were now almost at eye-level, an intimidating gleam encasing them.

"Hold me like that," Orochimaru whispered, trails of saliva and pre-cum slipping shamelessly from his fuchsia lips, "Like in the picture."

Completely overtaken by the undeniable craving and sexual desire, Jirayia tackled the small boy to the ground, his body now hovering above the other.

The purple tint that surrounded the rings of gold, the midnight hair that splayed beautifully unto the wooden floor like a curtain of ink, and skin as colorless as alabaster drove Jiraiya to deeply ponder how something so incredibly beautiful could ever take form in someone so unsuspecting. Cream lips parted at the sight underneath him, a series of desirous, lustful pants escaping him endlessly.

Without further thought, Jiraiya separated the whitened legs of the other as far apart as he could, earning him a very wide opportunity to position himself between the pale boy's obvious virginity. Small, awaiting gasps escaped the child beneath him, wanting nothing more but to finally have the older boy inside of him like he decided he wanted the first moment Jiraiya spoke to him at the swings.

Unaware of the coaxing that had to take place in order to make things less painful, Jiraiya plunged right in, earning a shrilling squeal from the younger boy. He looked down towards squinting, sunshine eyes, partially concerned, and partially uncaring for anything that was not the wonderful pressure of within.

"Did I h-hurt y-you?" Jiraiya managed to ask, watching intently at how the other's expression twisted into several different forms.

"N-no.." came the hardly-there whisper. The pain was surely unbearable, but Orochimaru kept that to himself. He finally had the object of his desire as close to him as possible, and he could ask for no more, "I-I'm okay.."

Convinced by the reassurance, Jiraiya immediately began to pick up his pace; heaving out of the unforgivably narrow entrance, only to ram back in, to then be rewarded by another squeal of pain escaping the other's lips.

Orochimaru was hot and tepid around his rock-hard erection. The flesh inside the pale boy was like a cushion of indescribable softness and dexterity that Jiraiya would never be able to describe no matter how much he increased his vocabulary throughout the years. The caverns and several layers that further perplexed Orochimaru's insides were absolutely delectable and unique.

Something about the forbidden warmth of the colorless snake, and the dangerous aura that emitted naturally from him, disallowed Jiraiya to ever forget that haunting night. Disallowed him to ever forget Orochimaru. No matter how wretched and how wicked his later actions would ensue, Jiraiya knew, (and always would know), that deep inside that conniving, deceitful, tyrannous serpentine, lied a lonely, mournful being with a cold, tactless heart no one managed to warm when it yearned for it most.

That night, however, Jiraiya knew the both of them would never speak of again as the years went by. As beautiful and as unforgettable as it was, he knew, (from deep inside), that it was not meant to ensue the way it had. They were young. They were lost. He was ignorant. This caused an avalanche of hatred within the snake charmer's spirit. And the black hatred, (the seething, colorless hatred), of knowing that moonlit night was deemed a mere 'mistake' by the other shattered him from deep within. Wickedness birthed, heartlessness rose.

Sweat dripped quietly from Jiraiya's chin, brows furrowed in desolate pleasure as the younger boy beneath him clenched unto his aching muscle. The sensuous sounds of hips clashing, flesh pounding, and bodily fluids squelching flooded the stifled room. Long, black hair draped the wooden floor, golden eyes highlighted intensely underneath the veil of darkness. Jiraiya could only but stare in perpetual astonishment.

Orochimaru was **beautiful**.

With a few more howls of profound, abysmal pleasure, and a few more shrieks and mewls from the pale boy being violated from deep within on the cold, wooden floor, the spasm of orgasm began to painfully churn and twist at Jiraiya's stomach. Not being able to contain a second more, a splatter of white, heavy liquid showered the insides of the other, causing a thick river of semen to drip from the sensitive orifice which still encased the twitching muscle.

Squinting and gasping for much needed air, Orochimaru looked up towards those magical, cinnamon eyes, watching quietly as the other regained his breath and composure before finally pulling out of him.

Sweat draped a childish, pale complexion as tired, yellow eyes watched the older boy wrap his arms around him from above. Jiraiya was hugging him. Jiraiya was holding him close. Exactly how he wanted it the very moment he first encountered him at the park.

"Jiraiya," the youngest of the two breathed, his voice shattered from the previous, unholy pleasure.

"Yeah?" came an identical, uncoordinated response.

Gulping away any fears, Orochimaru braced himself for his burning question.

"Can I.. be your girlfriend?"

A lean, tanned hand reached out for the curtain of ink-like hair that draped the floor, running thin fingers through the unreasonably feathery tresses. A smile graced the older boy's marked cheeks, and Orochimaru found himself smiling in return in response to the endearing sight.

"Yeah! You can be my girlfriend for a long time, 'Rochi!"

A giggle, and a wide, broad grin. The pale boy melted underneath the radiance of the other, wanting nothing more but look at that very same thing for the entirety of his life.

"Even after we're 40?"

"Even after we're 40."

"Really? Do you promise?"

"I promise."

**oOo**

**That sure was long! I LOVE those two. Omg~ xD squee~ But yes, for those who actually read through the whole thing, please REVIEW. Let us express our love for this wonderful pair! And let me know what you thought about the whole thing. (: Thanks SO much for reading! Until next time. xx**


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